I'm a Planetary Governor Now!
by Clocktower-Echos
Summary: One Guardsman, one title, one planet in a galaxy full of fuckery and grimdarkness plus a whole lot of wondering what the hell is going to happen next. M for language, inspired by "If the Emperor had a Text-to-Speech Device" and OCs of course. Feedback always appreciated.
1. Chapter 1: That Governor, Arriving

Chapter 1

There's a saying in the Imperial military that service only ends in death. This is the absolute law which all those who serve the Emperor's divine must follow, there is little knowledge of retirement due to old age. The Emperor gives every man, woman and child their right to live and it it those in the Imperial Guard who are to repay the God-Emperor in full with their own lives in return.

Or so it was thought.

On the (especially) rare occasion when the stars align and Chaos decides to chill the fuck out for a few seconds, one bizarrely lucky guardsman might find themselves free of vows he made. Most the time it's because he's just gone off and fucked a daemon and decided to join Chaos and amazingly enough escaped a bolter round to the skull.

For Sergeant Ralmier Tiber on the other hand, he didn't fuck off and committed obscene amounts of heresy. On the contrary, he did the Imperium a great favor by recovering a rare ancient Standard Construct Template for the almighty (and mildly heretical) Omnissiah and his tech priest servants. And for his most glorious service to the Imperium, he was awarded a planet.

Yup.

Some idiot was just given a planet over a blueprint from god-emperor knows when.

Sergeant Tiber would complain about the stupidity of it all, but he was in no position too. At the very least his chances of getting shot, killed and eaten (hopefully in that order) in battle would be greatly reduced. That and the fact that it was very likely the Adeptus Mechanicus would turn him into a toaster servator if he declined.

The veteran sat alone in his quarters aboard the Dauntless-class light cruiser, _Herald of Dawn_ , and was flipping through several papers and photos. There was the formal letter of celebration and thanks that came with a nice shiny medal, a basic guide on how to rule a planet (which Tiber suspected of it being as useful as the Infantryman's Primer) as well as several pictures of the planet.

The world he was gifted was a civilized world officially listed as Cuav III but if the guide he was given said anything close to the truth, it was more locally known as Sarab. Right about the technology of that of post-industrial age with a planet full of people who were relatively unified and civilized, more so than any feral stone age world at the very least. It would be a pretty easy task in Tiber's mind, he'd just appoint some secondary nobles to do most of the work for him while he signed the odd paper and convinced the occasional meeting and would then have a nice and easy life until he would meet the god-emperor in old age.

But at the same time, such an idea didn't sit well with the training he had. Tiber was a soldier, one confined to a lifetime of service to the savior of mankind. There was nothing but service and duty to him; anything less would have gotten him shot by a Commissar in the frontlines. Tiber had seen it happen a few too many times as well.

Deep in his personal debate, the sergeant's hands fell upon an old picture that was crumpled and worn despite being neatly folded. Picking it up, there was a mixture of smiles and sadness; it was a picture of his squad from the 603rd Cadian, the " _Emperor's Chosen"_ as they had often called themselves. The 603rd was as diverse as the Imperium itself, being one of those combined units who hosted the remnants of a myriad of other fallen regiments.

Tiber let the memories flow as he ran a hand across the faded image. He always had a sharp memory, the sergeant remembered much of the regiment's escapades and adventures. And thanks to his squad, he had plenty of tales to boast of like highjacking a Ork Trukk, learning how to ride beasts from an ex-Rough Rider (with limited success), and kicking an Eldar right in the crotch. Fun times, fun times.

"Sir?", a voice knocked on the door of his cabin, "We're arriving at your destination."

Without saying a word, the man got up and stashed everything away. His bags had already been packed and awaiting on the transport. He was mostly dressed for the occasion, as well as he could be at least, it's hard to get years of battle damage and war scars out of flak armor but it looked nice enough. All that was left was some finishing touches: a cape, a icon of faith and his halberd. As a sergeant he was technically supposed to have a power sword as a designation of rank but due to the wonderful ability of the Munitorum to fuck things up harder than a drunken Dark Eldar, Tiber never got one. Instead, he just looted a halberd off the body of some other regiment that seemed to be more concerned with pomp and circumstance. Still though, it did its job well with its reach over more close-range melee weapons something that the guardsman was thankful many times over for.

Slinging his recently polished halberd over his shoulder, Tiber made his way down the corridors of the _Herald of Dawn_ , careful not to decapitate anyone by mistake (the man had already did it once before, didn't need to see that again). With silent nods he greeted the voidsmen and officers aboard the ship as he made his way down to the hanger and found his way to his surface transport.

The seats were hard but it was not uncomfortable for Tiber, he experienced much worse forms of transports than this, compared to some of the things that he was aboard, this could actually be considered luxurious. The soon-to-be planetary governor sat down and buckled in, ever so giddy on the inside as he threw his command halberd on to the pile of bags and crates that would accompany him.

"Aren't ye just the lucky bastard of the century?" the pilot joked from the cockpit, "Sure as hell wished I had a planet to control."

"You fly boys got it easy compared to gents like me!" Tiber smirked back, "You ain't ever the ones who have to get your boots dirty and always get the best views."

"Fair point but when ye get shot there's no chance of ye being thrown into space."

Tiber chuckled to himself and got cozy, atmospheric entry tend to be bit a bit bumpy no matter what. He was happily content to thinking of being able to sleep alone in something larger than a bathroom stall or a tent and the massive numbers of servants and officials who'd do his job for him while he'd have it easy.

"Alright Mr. Tiber, we're arriving on Urbino now, get ready for landing." the pilot began the landing sequence as alarms were being set off in his passenger's head.

"Urbino?" Tiber questioned, "Aren't I supposed to be on Sarab?"

"Not according to ye papers ye aren't," the pilot waved a handful of papers he grabbed from a container, "Says right here ye the new head of Urbino, nice little isolated feudal world in the middle of nowhere."

Tiber could hear something in his brain shatter like glass. Surely there was a mistake, in fact it was almost certain there was given the Administrum's paper work and stuff. In a panicked rush, the man dug out his official transcript and sure enough, his fears was confirmed. Instead of just "govern Cuav III" being written as his purpose, it was "govern and uplift the people of Urbino".

The transport landed on a open field as people surrounded the metal machine from the sky. There was a mix of peasants and nobles and warriors, all eager to see what this thing would bring; word had it that their would be a new leader arriving who would bring peace and prosperity to their lands.

A highborn man dressed in red parted the crowd with his bodyguards and prepared to be the first to greet their new global leader. There was an air of refinement around him but he was just as excited and curious as everyone else; the people of Urbino knew that they were part of some larger empire who sometimes came to demand tributes of grain or metals or whatever but that was it. Many nobles hoped to use the new leader to gain more power in their lands or even beyond while the peasantry hoped just hoped for a good and fair king.

The man in red cleared his throat and marched up to the transport, knightly retinue behind him, "Greetings oh gloriou-"

"WHYYYY? WHHHHYY? EMPEROR DAMMIT WHY?" Tiber ragingly cried as he rocked in his seat, spouting gibberish and curse words to the flabbergasted locals' surprise.

The pilot soon popped out of the cockpit to confront the welcoming party, "As ye can see, I'm afraid your glorious overlord ain't in the mood to really have conversation." Everyone looked at Tiber who was still in disbelief as some of the crowd tried to get a look inside the ship, "Can I get you gents some coffee though? Also, can ye help unload all the stuff from out back?"

Without saying a word, everyone in the local area collectively had the same thought, "What the fuck is going on?"


	2. Chapter 2: That Governor, Planning

It would take poor now-Planetary Governor Tiber a solid few days to recover his mind and accept reality that something had gone wrong. Nevertheless, the man decided to hatch a plan on what to do: do the original plan. Surely that if he just waited a while, new messages from Holy Terra would say that there was botched orders and he'd be transferred. In that time he'd just find some upstart nobles or whatever and just have them do all the work while he sorted this mess out.

Of course as soon as Tiber came up with this plan, he realized its fatal flaw: this was the Administorum he was relying on. The sole organization in the Imperium that could cause a civil war on a planet due to a lack of filing space and had paperwork several thousand years late. He remembered fondly of the time one of his commanders received a message that dated to the time of his grandfather. Ironically enough it was the man's grandfather who sent it to his son. And people say that time is convoluted in the warp; Tiber figured that the depths of the Administorum had a similar time-bending effect some how.

But for now, Urbino still expected its new overlord to do something than scream all day in the confines of his room. It didn't take an expert to say that Tiber's meltdown wasn't exactly the most positive way to leave a good first impression, and now the aftermath was something the new planetary governor would have to figure out himself as well as all the other things.

The man in red who originally was to greet Tiber was known as Enelo Karine VVI, head of the aptly named House Karine who owned a good chunk of land on the planet including the field where Tiber had came down from the _Herald of Dawn_. Enelo had been instrumental thus far to Tiber's efforts, letting him stay in one of his summer estates as his temporary residence and providing some of his personal retinue to guard the newcomer. But more importantly, he was the one who was giving Tiber all of the information about the planet.

From what Enelo told him and whatever tomes and books he could find, Tiber pieced together that Urbino was a very modest place to put it politely, internal power struggles between the nobles and lords left a very fractured populace with nomadic, heretical tribes only making matters worse. At one point Urbino had held an important place in the local systems, but various planets from nearby planets had managed to wrangle away all of the support and wealth the system had, making the Urbino System poorer and poorer with each passing generation for a solid five thousand years.

Going off of Imperial records and geological scans, it seemed that Urbino itself had a vast amount of mineral wealth yet to be exploited, its current state of poverty and fractured unity and power struggles prevented the planet from mining it. The state of technology was one that was somewhere between the high and late middle ages minus the gunpowder. Seemed that no one managed to blow themselves up with an elixir of life just yet.

Tiber would have to first unify the planet in some way in order for his plan to work. Hard to image a state running smoothly when everyone in it wants everyone else dead. Besides, appearing as the "Unifier of Urbino" surely had some very good press value. Of course, that would also mean more work for him and him actually having to do work, most of which he didn't know how to do.

The _Planetary Governor's Guide to Planetary Governance_ suggested the appointment of local experts or close friends to assist in running an administration. Problem was that outside of Enelo (who Tiber didn't actually know all too well really), Tiber didn't know anyone. He only had the flimsiest of grasps on the culture and people as well. For all he knew, some "expert" in fertilizer farming could just be some homeless bum who slept in manure!

He could have Enelo get some people to help him, but Tiber wasn't stupid. The lord, for as nice as he was, would most likely put his own friends into power and probably lead some coup against Tiber or just have such a massive influence and power over him. Was it paranoia? Yes, but a life time in the Imperial Guard and being constantly on the prowl for hidden heretics and genestealers tends to do that to people. Besides, working with some of the more arrogant and nasty regiments kept Tiber on his toes, especially if said regiment was full of some "noble" bluebloods or something.

His only remaining option was to contact his squadmates given they were the only people Tiber trusted. Translated into blunt terms: Tiber prayed that the mish-mashed jackasses he worked with before were still alive and knew more about certain select topics than he did because emperor-forbids he would have to teach farmers how to use cotton gin or an Easy-Bake Flamer.

"This is going to be a fucking mess." The planetary governor sighed as he looked at the paperwork in front of him, mostly requisition orders for machinery, supplies and basically everything in the Imperium had and Urbion had a mysterious lack of. The lack of a plumbing system was the most jarring of the mysterious lackings of the planet, Tiber was glad that he wasn't the one clearing out the chamber pots or witnessing the process.

"Well," Enelo tried to think of something positive to cheer up his new liege as he poured over the books along the walls of the study's library, "At least thou hath a planet in thy personal possession. Many a men would kill and hath killed for such high an honor such as that."

"Yeah, and all of the inner workings and other bullshit of it too."

"Perhaps thou would entertain the notion of passing your duties to anothe-"

 _ ***Click***_

"Hell no." Tiber pulled out his laspistol and turned off the safety, "Don't play those kinds of games with me Enelo, I'm not one of the idiots in pompous flums who call themselves 'lords' on this planet."

The native lord sighed and put back the large encyclopedia he quickly held up as a shield. As two-faced as he was, Tiber couldn't help but find it funny how honest Enelo was about wanting his position. It was equally surprising that he hadn't been killed in his sleep yet by him. Either that Enelo was the stupidest mustached potato in red on Urbino or that he had some plan that Tzeentch would wonder what the hell was going on.

"Doth thou formulated a plan in which to follow, sir?" Enelo sat in a chair and gracefully sipped a warm cup of xerigium (an herb native to Urbino) tea that a servant just wheeled in on a fine silver cart, "Also, I beseech thou to indulge thyself in some of this delightful native tea."

"Thanks but no thanks, I drink coffee." Tiber continued to shuffle around papers before looking up at Enelo's confused face, clearly unaware of the Emperor's holy grounded go-go juice, "Its a black drink you make from grinding up beans and-"

"So thou drinketh bean stew on a regular basis?"

"No, it's much thinner than a stew-"

"So thou drinketh a cup of bean broth?"

"No, it's not soup, it's more like tea with-"

"So thou drinketh a paste of liquid bean?"

"No, you also add milk and sometimes something sweet."

"So thou drinketh a paste of liquid bean with cow excretion and put the mixture into a beehive to sweeten? Pardon me for inquiring, but who'd drinketh such a dangerous and tasteless concoction? What if thou discovered a bee in thou's drink!"

"No... please... for the love of the Emperor... please just shut up. You're making coffee sound like some unholy daemonic brew." Tiber's hand met his face as he couldn't believe how hard it was to explain the concept of coffee to this man. The sergeant could feel his blood pressure rising as well as his rage. He wondered if anyone ever turned to Khorne because they had to explain something to a living, pompous brick wall.

"Sounds like a such an unrefined broth to me." Enelo muttered as he enjoyed another long sip of xerigium tea.

Ignoring the sass, Tiber cleared his throat and spoke with a voice that made him sound competent at his new job:

"My current plan is to requisition offworld supplies and people to assist in the reunification of Urbino. I hope that my title now carries enough weight that I can get my old regiment station here it not some of my old squad or company here, I'm sure they'd appreciate it greatly. If one of the Enginseers could come along, that would be great as well.

I supposed I should also find places of residences for them, although some of them would be more than happy to sleep in a tree or in a barn I guess. Which reminds me I still have to commission a personal fortress estate once this who unification thing is done... ahh, fuck it, I'll just do it sometime earlier. But first thing is first, I need to go an build an army and eventually turn it into a proper Guard unit... Enelo, would you happen to know anyone with such a qualification as to train an army capable of defending a planet? Or attacking one for that matter."

"I fear that I dare say I know not of any normal man with such talent who would accept such a task." Enelo shrugged, "All those who art capable hath been snatch'd by lords and nobles for their own personal retinues."

Tiber sunk into his chair and sighed, he had a feeling things would only continuously fuck up from here on out and it was barely a week into his leadership. He could lead a squad of ten to battle no problem, but leading a planet of tens of thousands of millions was a whole other squig rodeo. At least his own military experience would be of use and once some people from the 603rd Cadian got here, that's be even more help.

"Oi! Afroxz!" Zorgg the excited gretchen ran down the beaten paths of the Ork camp towards his boss, "Didya 'ear et? Big boss "Eadhakka sad his mioghty WAAGHHHH be a startin' soon! Mhm, etz gonna star- GHEK!"

Afroxz clearly wasn't amused by the grot's reference of "'Eadhakka" being the leader of the WAGHHH and made the green midget pay for it with his head. He chewed on it slowly, savoring the crunch and the warm blood that spilled from it as it dribbled down his chin, "Da only WAGHHH boss 'round 'ere is me. Zogging 'Eadhakka dun know howda getta inna gud 'n propa scrapping if he tried."

Flanked by his own green followers, Afrox menacingly made his way towards the tent of 'Eadhakka, he'll show him how a _real_ Ork fights and then he'll lead their WAGHHH. And it'd be the best zogging WAGHHH any of the boyz will ever get themselves into, ever.


	3. Chapter 3: That Governor, Introducing

Urbino was blessed with some of the most beautiful sunrises that Tiber had ever seen. Although given the fact most of the suns he was used to seeing was either on the backdrop of death and smoke or of the blue-clad psyker Chaos Space Marine variety, he didn't really have a good background to judge. Tiber was getting an especially good look at it this early morning as he was woken up abruptly by the sound of people moving about outside his bedroom and the clattering of platters.

"Yhew the ferk in ta naem oph te Imprahra itz yup dis fraking rrly?" Tiber stumbled out of his bed and open the door half asleep in an aquilla-printed sleeping gown, still wishing he could go back to his dreams about a Tau lady showing off her "greater goods".

"Apologizes sir!" one of the maid rushed over to catch the Planetary Governor as he precariously hovered above the ground as if to fall on to it, "Lord Enelo informed us that thou would be receiving guests and hath commanded us to ready for a proper greeting party!"

"Guetz? Vhat gusts?" words were slowly becoming more and more coherent as Tiber forced himself awake, clearing the dirty brown hair of his out of his purple eyes. Damn he'd need to remember to get a haircut soon.

"I deduce that thou's guests art thou's old comrades?" the main quizzically looked at Tiber as she thought, "The six thirty Canadians?"

Tiber's head prepped up a little having translated what the woman meant, "Oh... them... Don't do anything."

"Excuse me sir?" the maid looked at Tiber with equal parts shock and disbelief, "Thou must own knowledge that tis custom for those of Urbino to deliver welcoming parties. Us loyal servants hath already been preparing for thou's guests arrival in the post noon since nights previous!"

"Dun't. Knewing them, they'll be here either way too early or way too late and make their own ent-"

It's common knowledge that loud noises are most effective at waking people up. Especially those of the artillery and explosive variety; life in the Imperial guard drilled that sort of "natural" alarm into your head pretty well. There's also another bit of Imperial Guard knowledge that is universally accepted by all guardsmen: there's no such thing as crash landing, only dynamic entries.

Tiber was fortunate enough this morning to witness both forms of knowledge as he saw a Valkyrie make a _very_ dynamic entry through the top of the villa, taking a solid half of the roof with it as it went. Expectedly, there was a sudden panicked rush as people tried to deduce what had just happened with a flying fireball suddenly falling from the heavens.

Tiber's guards dived in front of him to protect him a bit too enthusiastically, tackling him into the doorframe instead. Some of the more pious members of the household face the sun and raised their arms in desperate prayer and worship while the more pragmatic and brave of the bunch ran towards the wreckage.

"Dammit Ossk! Why the in name of the Emperor's golden rib cage did you let the fucking **Attilan** pilot?!" a visibly angry Elysian Drop Troop climbed out of the back, his hair frazzled and armored body burnt, "Yhax could don't know jack about flying!"

"I ride like the WWIIiiiiNnNNnnnNNNDDDDddddDDD!" a singing voice from the steppes only a mother could love came straight out of the aircraft before a notable sound of reaction to a punch in the face followed it, also sounding like it came from the steppes.

"Shut up Yhax! Nobody wants to hear your damn throat singing!" a much beefier, rougher voice (who presumably did the punching) yelled, "Also, Kitell, Yhax still manages to pilot better than you! Remember the last time we let you do the space driving? We flattened about 8 city blocks on Rimori!"

"Would both of you shut up and help me out of this mess? I can't find either of my legs!" a much more feminine but no less angry voice bellowed into the air, scaring away what few brave birds didn't run from the initial crash.

Tiber slowly picked himself up and stifled a laugh as he saw the maid's face in a complete state of shock and bewilderment, "Told you they're bad at following time tables and looking for suitable places to land."

The Cadian chuckled as he pushed his guards away and closed his doors to get changed in his room that now boasted a new skylight. The maid on the other hand could only stare at the bickering soldiers that stumbled their way out of the Valkyrie before throwing her hands up in exasperation.

"So... I hath been told that tis be this collection of hooligans who obliterated the roofing of my summertime villa." Enelo was clearly not amused as the members of the 603rd Cadian lined up in front of him and Tiber.

"Best collection of misfits in the Imperium." Tiber was beaming with unfitting pride for the situation, "Won't find any better jackasses to serve next to anywhere else."

Enelo could only sigh and rest his head the palm of his hand, cursing under his breath, "Will thou be so inclined to inform me of the names which these "misfits" go under? I must know whom to charge the bill for repairs too."

With an unexpected grin, Tiber suddenly looked more in-charge as he ordered the mismash of troops to represent themselves, "Emperor's Chosen! Represent!" With a loud clapping of heels, all of the soldiers stood at attention and saluted their former sergeant.

"Kitell Fallschirm! Formerly of the 19th Elysian Drop Troopers, sir!", the armored drop trooper barked, his permanently windswept hair still smoldering ever so slightly like the flame in his sky blue eyes.

"Yhax, first of his name who once rode with the 52nd Attilan Rough Riders, my khan!", the broad shouldered and lanky Yhax steppe-shouted with a throaty slur, his unkempt appearance as wild as the animals he loved.

"Ossk Highsar! Exiled from the 9th Brontain Longknives sir!" roared the scar-covered Brontain, his many blades glimmering and shinning in the light as he spoke.

"Unit #4444, "Fours". Former unit: 5th Vultis Bloodborn. Combat ready Sergeant Ralimer J. Tiber." the vat-born stated with an apathetic tone mixed with emotions still unknown and confusing to her.

"Alicia Venton from the 141st Cadian. Traitors took my legs but they ain't taken anymore sir!" the veteran proudly tapped her prosthetic feet together as she puffed her chest out.

"Rediron Hendrik from the 1st Bravadis Remnants Militia, sir! I came, I saw, I built!", the Bravadian Scavenger saluted with a black-fingered salute, looking cocky and hungrily at the various little contraptions in the room; there was a reason why the Mechanicus had a mixed relationship with the Bravadian Remnants Militia, Rediron was perhaps the best example why.

"Koris and Karlin Thorn. 130th Catachan, In sync and ready to serve!" two identical twins snapped up and gave half-comical grins, bumping each around for fun as after the saluted in such perfect unison, it would make a Mordian drill sergeant cry.

"Aleph, just Aleph. 32nd Penal Legion. Completed my term so here I am motehrfuckers." the convict didn't even bother to salute properly, instead opting to give more of a brotherly nod towards Tiber.

The group of nine then suddenly jumped into a new formation, one that appeared well rehearsed. Each one striking an unrealistic combat pose and spreading out like a fan before Tiber hopped in the middle of the all, halberd suddenly appearing in his hand before they all shouted in unison (with varying amounts of enthusiasm, creating quite an inharmonious chorus of idiots shouting), "TOGETHER WE FORM THE PO*ER RA*GERS OF THE EMPEROR'S CHOSEN!"

Enelo was taken ever so slightly aback and wondered if he was on drugs or something. He had no understanding of what the hell was going on; do Imperial Guardsmen regularly act like circus clowns in tight, color-coated suits?

The lord wiped his eyes and cleared his throat, "ART THOU ALL FUCKING WILD MANIACS?" Such a ferocious bellowing was extraordinary, around that of a cannon blast. Tiber wondered if the native lord had some Ork blood in him somehow given the sheer volume of his screaming, it was amazing that no one's ears bled.

"Nope, just a squad of the 603rd Cadian." Kitell dutifully kept his battle pose as he responded.

"Please for the endearment of the God-Emperor telleth the remainder of thou's regiment shan't be nearly so foolish." Enelo prayed that there would be some more concrete evidence of competency amongst the 603th.

"Sorry to disappoint, but we're all like this." Tiber chuckled as Enelo helplessly gave up and threw his arms in the air, "We're all just a bunch of misfits, best damn misfits in the galaxy."

"Well... perhaps tis not for nought, I applaud your exposition but aren't there ideally ten per squadly retinue?"

"The man got a point, where's Krieg?" Ossk dropped his pose and looked around, "We all sure he didn't die in the dynamic entry?"

"No, I didn't see his body while I was putting on my legs," Alicia also looked around curiously, "Thought that Kriegsmen were built tougher than-"

"KKKRRRRIIIIEEEEEEGGGGGGGGG."

A gout of flame blossomed from the hallway into the room as a sinister figure cloaked in a trench coat and rebreather, a flamer held in its dark hands. Everyone broke posture and ran from the wall of fire the Death Guard reject spewed into the room as servants ran from the fire or praised the sun for some holy assistance.

As he jumped out a large bay window, Tiber knew he had fucked up. Hopefully housing wouldn't be too much of an issue as he was doubtful that Enelo would let him live in another one of his 38 estates.

 **A/N: Hello internet personas! Clock here. Thank you so much for your reading/support on this story and for putting up with my terrible humor. I feel motivated to actually write stuff on my own when I'm not practicing procrastinationism.**

 **As per usual, feedback/reviews/favorites/follows are always much appreciated as I am always looking to improve my writing, thanks! ^_^**


	4. Chapter 4: That Governor, Remembering

"S-sargent... I think I need to speak with you..."

"Hmm? What's on your mind son?"

"I-I think I-I'm... I-I'm..."

"You're what? Afraid of death? That's just something you'll have to get used to in the guard."

"N-n-no... I-I was wo-wondering... wh-why is it th-that we kill in t-the name of the E-Emperor like the cultists d-do fo-for the-their own g-gods...?"

"..."

"I'm s-sorry sir! P-please don't e-e-execute me-ee! I pr-promise that m-muh ph-phait in the Go-God Emper-"

"Don't worry private, I won't blow your brains out. That's the commissar's job. But to answer your question... hmm... I guess it comes down to what you're fighting for. A drive if you will."

"M-my drive is j-just to se-serve the Emperor, sir!"

"But why do you serve him?"

"S-since that i-is my duty a-as a guardsman?"

"So? I've heard cultists and heretics spout that it was their duty to serve their heretical masters."

"... I-I'm afraid y-you've lost me s-sir..."

"Look, what I'm trying to tell you is that its why we fight that makes us different, and why we're above the scum we shoot at. You see, the average cultist will only fight for his own ends; he doesn't care about anyone else, just himself. Us on the other hand, we fight not for the Emperor alone, but his ideals, his creed. Do you know what I think that is private?"

"A-Afraid not..."

"Hope."

"...H-Hope sir?"

"Yes. Hope. The way I see it, the Emperor had plans to progress humanity beyond its limitations. He believed in the ability in each and everyone of us that we were capable of ruling the galaxy, that the endless horizon of stars was our's for the taking. He is hope incarnate, hoping that under his vigilant guidance that we would become something greater than ourselves when unified. Why else do you think he hesitated to slay the traitor Horus? He hoped to see good in him like he wished to see in everyone else."

"S-so we f-fight for hope, sir?"

"Yes. We fight for the hope of humanity that even in these dark times that one day we will progress into something greater for the good of us all. Understand private?"

"Y-yes sir!"

"Good, you're a good soldier Tiber, hope you can become something even greater."

"I don't think he's waking up."

"Well, he did fly head first into a tre-OWW! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?"

"Its for poking the sergeant with the butt end of your damn lance Yhax! Don't you know better?"

Tiber groaned as he wrenched open his eyes, the heat and acrid smell of smoke caused them to water as he looked up to see himself being surrounded. The estate was still burning as a mass of people attempted to form a bucket line to out the fire with everyone looking a bit kissed by fire. Not Yhax though somehow, the Attilan managed to not get a smidge of ember or bit of burnt fiber on that giant nomad coat of his or his body. Maybe Attilans were inherently fireproof?

"All of you just shut up." Tiber picked himself up and rubbed his head, trying to get all the voices and bells out of it, "I'm fine. Taken bigger hits than that before."

"Sargeant Ralimer J. Tiber, are you sure that your situation is stable?" Fours was already flipping through the medical section of her Primer as she examined the officer with her sharp eyes.

"Yes, yes, I'm perfectly fine Fours now-"

"If your status is 'fine', then why are you crying?"

The world went silent. Nobody moved but they all focused on the sergeant's face, even Tiber was surprised as his facial nerves picked up something wet on his face. It truly was a tear that had formed in his purple eyes and dribbled its way down his cheek.

"N-no reason..." Tiber quickly wiped his hand on his face and lied, "Just some old memories of an old friend."

"Lemme guess. Sergeant Melis?" Alicia saw right through her fellow Cadian's facade.

Tiber solemnly nodded as he picked himself up, "That man was a hero. I can't believe that he had to die like that."

"Welcome to the Imperial Guard." Alicia offhandedly muttered as she dusted Tiber's back off, "Anyways, you might wanna do something about your friend over there. He looks more pissed than a Slaaneshi cultist getting blue balled."

Needless to say, Enelo was understandably pissed that one of his 38 estates got destroyed. A transport straight to the roof would have done enough damage but a genetically unstable pyromaniac Kriegsmen was quite a finish to it all. Now the poor Lord Enelo would only have 37 estates to his name, such dark times for him.

As for the band of idiot guardsmen on the other hand, they were just thankful for the _Herald of Dawn's_ continued vigilant overwatch of the planet that allowed them to call down official Imperial Guard Rapid Deployment Habitation Units. Aka the planetary governor and his retinue were living out of glorified transport containers. Quite a change of pace to say the least.

It brought back a great deal of memories for the squad. Memories of camping out on desolate planets praying that the Tyranids wouldn't eat them in their sleep or Orks wouldn't just drive over them in their sleep or Eldar wouldn't cut their throats in their sleep or the Commissar would shoot them for having wet dreams in their sleep. Fun times all around.

Camped right outside the city of Amasi, one of the larger cities in Enelo's hand but not the one he lived in (thankfully), Tiber and his squad was living off of regular shipments of food from the ship orbiting above them as they planned what to do next.

"Just fire at them from orbit, simple and done." Alicia looked up from the global map of Urbino provided by an upset Enelo some days before.

"That would damage the surface too much Alicia, I'd still want to not have to spend time rebuilding if possible." Tiber rubbed his head as he accepted coffee from a maid, "Thanks- Wait, aren't you supposed to be elsewhere?"

"Servants are attached to the places which they work and then their masters." the maid spoke softly and not nearly as extravagantly like so many other Urbinans Tiber had encountered, "In short, we have no more land or estate to look over thus we are entrusted to your care sir. Tis the way around here."

"Theennnn... Shouldn't you guys be working at another one of Lord Enelo's estates?" Tiber looked back to see several other servants squabbling around, cleaning and cooking and keeping busy.

"Our work papers were lost in the fire. Lord Karine never set word for us so we are effectively unbound servants."

"And you lot are here why?" Kitell piped up as one of the servants attempted to dust his head with a feather duster only to get shooed off, "Why aren't you all doing something, I dunno, better with your lives? Aren't you free now or something?"

"We are servants, born of servant parents and servant grandparents. We know little of life beyond what we were born to do. All of our training has been so that we may serve diligently."

Shushing the mouths of his squadmates, Tiber approached the maid in the most official way he could, the brunette maid standing her ground as he came up, "What is your name?"

"Itzy is what everyone calls me around here."

"Well Itzy, I think I understand your case. Tell the others that they will be in my care now and I shall look after all of you."

With a small squee of thanks, the maid made her way out of the room to tell her little friends. Everyone else in the room was visibly confused with some having some very loud objections to Tiber's decisions.

"Tiber, why the hell didn't you just let that girl do what she wanted?" Kitell was visibly less than pleased with the recent decision.

"You're just going to let her stay a maid?" Alicia's questioning came in to support the drop trooper.

Tiber just raised a hand and pointed at the one person who had remained silent, Fours.

"Itzy just reminds me a lot of Fours. They're born and trained to for the one thing they know how to do. Must I remind you what happened when we tried to get Fours to be more outgoing and shit? Do you really think that forcing Itzy and her crew out into the open would do them any good? What else do you think they would be able to do beyond what they have the skills for?"

"She could go and lear-"

"Learn what and where? If you can't see we're on a damn feudal world! Even half the nobles can't read, forget people like Itzy! Where do you think she'd even get the money to learn? Where do you think she can learn? This isn't Cadia, this isn't Elysia, this is Urbino. If you couldn't tell this entire planet is a solid forty thousand years behind the times! You all think that just because you got something means that everyone else also can get it!"

The room went silent as only Tiber's huffing broke the silence. It took him a few seconds to realize that he was red in the face and his fist was balled up, knuckles white. Everyone stood still for a minute, Alicia and Kitell looking ever so guilty.

"The khan has a point." Yhax bravely spoke up, "I still can barely read the Primer, don't think that ever stopped me from fighting."

"Thank you Yhax but I think it would be best to leave all of this behind." Tiber deflated as he began to become more casual (or tried too), "Sorry about that everyone, just got a bit personal towards the end. Shall we get back to work?"

There was an awkward muttering and shuffling of feet as the 11 people repositioned themselves around the table. Slowly things got back on track with people coming up with ideas and plans to be discussed or shot down, various bits of junk being used as stand ins for cities, armies and whatever else could be put down on a map. Joking and teasing soon followed as even Fours got in on the action and made a very, very snappy remark at her squad mates in a rare break of appearances.

Tiber could only smile as he looked at the 10 misfits and felt the warm atmosphere (and not the one being produced by having 11 people in a single shipping container). This was the family he knew of.


	5. Chapter 5: That Governor, Doubting

By the end of the week, Tiber had made amends with Enelo who had forgiven them (after several drinks and a promise of the next issue of Playmarine from off world). The two were once again seen in relative good graces in each other eyes but the Lord still banned Tiber and his men from entering any of his 37 other estates.

Thankfully for the Guardsmen however, their little base of operations was developing nicely. More habitation pods were sent down as well as additional men and defenses; Tiber could afford to have constantly manned turrets and around the clock sentries and patrols armed with something besides long pointy sticks. Lasguns were weak of course but Tiber would much rather take his odds with a flashlight on combat drugs over a spear.

To his great surprise, a small tent village had sprung up right outside the walls and guard towers of Tiber's little slice of Urbino. Enterprising if not shady young men had set up stalls offering native foods and trinkets to any guardsman willing to barter. Refugees who the war had displaced flocked to the safety of the modern weapons that probably scared the shit out of them more than they thought would actually hurt them. In some ways, Tiber took pity on them and had understood their plight, with the armies out fighting, no one would be around to defend villages from bandits or other armies. Such a fate was of understandable sadness which Tiber took as his own duty to try and help soothe.

Curiously enough however, there was group of children who kept roaming around the place. Orphans no doubt but they did not seem lost or hopeless. If anything they almost look like gangbangers who looked for trouble with tattoos and markings of green triangles with a slash of red coming out of them. Alicia warned Tiber of what the markings might mean and even more so that they'd be the first to possibly turn heretic as was the case with gangs like this. As a fellow Cadian, the sergeant was inclined to agree.

"I'm telling you, they aren't some ragtag tribe of lost kids, they're a cult waiting to be born." Alicia angrily poured herself of recaf in the mess hall unit.

"They certainly don't look like a cult, not any markings I've ever seen. Probably just a whole bunch of idiots trying to be cool and make up their own god." Aleph nonchalantly drunk straight from a bottle of non-ration Rotgut, no one bothering to ask where he got it from, "Probably also think they're all so cool and edgy or some shit."

"Cult or not, they certainly don't look like boy scouts. I'll just have to have someone more local look into it." Tiber noted on a pad.

"Why not have your side bitch Yellow do it?" the ex-Penal waved the bottle at Tiber.

"Since _Enelo_ also seems to have little knowledge of them, apparently nobles are too busy fucking and killing each other to really care about this kind of stuff."

With an apathetic shrug, Aleph downed the remains of the bottle and made his way out, "Sounds like it make for one hell of a shitty book series. All these power games and stuff."

Within seconds of Aleph's departure, Kitell made his way in, dataslate in hand as well as a few precariously balanced notepads, "Sir, here's all the crap on the current standing forces that Enelo says he can muster as well as several other possible levies and mercenaries he can get his hands on."

"Well tell me the mercenaries first, they should be mildly more competent than the levies." Tiber spoke from experience not so much as the skill of the mercs but the lack of skill in levies. Enough time with levy whiteshields and people tend to lose faith in them quick. They tend to be the kind of people who'd lose half of their unit _on the way to the battlefield._

Kitell cleared his throat and began to list the available mercenary groups, eliciting some quite ooos and ahhhs from Tiber, "There is the Blood Miners, the Warhounds, Sentinels of Ofstora, Golden Guard, Klonga de Maracupa, Tessian's Tercios, and Paralavee Rangers."

Tiber closed his eyes and nodded his head. These were good names, he liked them. They could work. "Get me all of them." was all that came out of the sergeant's mouth and that was all that was needed, "They should work excellently with Enelo's knights. Speaking of which I think I should be meeting them around lunch?"

"You better hurry then sir," Kitell doodled around on his pad, "I hear that knights don't like to be kept waiting."

Tiber wasn't going to keep them waiting of course, he couldn't possibly be late to such an event. Its why he had a jeep after all, the man could make the trip in under five minutes by pressing the pedal to the metal as he bumped his way down the dirt roads. He did honestly feel bad for the machine spirit though, must be having one hell of a migraine right now give how fast Tiber was going.

* * *

Three hours later, the same jeep drove its way into to the base camp and the honorable Planetary Governor stormed his way back into the mess hall and angrily demanded a cup of recaff from the coffee machine. Machine spirits just don't seem to catch a break with him around, the coffee machine didn't so much produce recaff as it cried tears of it into Tiber's cup which he soon drank down in one fell swoop before demanding the machine spirit cry him another cup of it.

"Something go wrong?" Alicia looked at Tiber who was more than visibly annoyed, taking a break from the classic Imperial love story, Jomeo and Ruilet. She was at the point where Ruilet was burning heretics with a heavy flamer while calling for Jomeo who was busy trying to slay a Daemon named Kaarjalhugowogatekilothikarinliniwayomimeeshoegarlen-Tulzulisukiharmbememertronksy. More commonly known as Karl.

"Knights never showed up. So much for being impeccable." Tiber continued to demand tears of recaff from the coffee machine, "The Administratum is more on time then those metal armor fetishists."

"No need to get that riled up now, it ain't worth it. Just because there ain't a commissar around doesn't mean you get to turn to Khorne over 3 hours, I doubt that Khorne would be approving of that. Also, stop rage-drinking recaff, it's not healthy."

"That's rich coming from the girl who tried to go on a 'cleansing diet' while on tour."

"Hey, the Sister told me that lettuce and promethium was the way to keep your figure proper! I was younger and stupider back then too."

Tiber looked over the rim of his fourth cup of recaff, "As if you've changed _that_ much. Its also what you get for believing in the Order of the Blessed Touch nutjobs."

"Nice to see that you're mood has stabilized," Alice sank in her seat from the memory that Tiber brought up, "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to see Kaarjalhugowogatekilothikarinliniwayomimeeshoegarlen-Tulzulisukiharmbememertronksy get shanked in the spleen."

* * *

 **A/N: Hello internet personas, tis been awhile hasn't it? I know I haven't update this story in like a month but that's all due to irl stuff and stress, whether or not you believe it is up to you.**

 **I do want to thank everyone who's been reading and favoriting this story thus far however! I shall try to continue to write for as long as I have the time and Slaanesh isn't trying to find a way to drive a train into my ass.**

 **As per usual, favorites/reviews are always appreciated as well as any sort of writing tips and constructive criticisms you want to provide in the area of comedy (honestly I don't know wtf I'm doing half the time while writing this and just pray its humorous ^^;)**

 **-Clock**


	6. Chapter 6: That Governor, Building Up

"Okay everyone, let's get a move on here, Imperial business about to commence."

"Watch your steps folks, no pushin' or shovin' each other."

"Would everyone with a red car please follow me?"

The voices of dozens of guardsmen with crude megaphones of stamped metal rung out as refugees from the makeshift village around Tiber's compound poured out into the surrounding countryside, sacks of belongings over their or on half functional carts. The houses had been emptied to a bone with some houses even being cannibalized by their former owners.

"I see that thou has finally taken some initiative upon thyself." Enelo watched from one of the compound's guard towers, flanking Tiber as the two watched the mass exodus of people, "What manners of constructs could you possibly require all souls to leave their homes most dearest? Tis not as if they have much left."

"I'm amazed how you suddenly began caring for them." Tiber snarked as he tapped away on a dataslate, "You'll see what I'm doing soon. Although, why the hell are you even here in the first place?"

"I hath simply grown an unusual attachment to this estate as well as thou's magical bean broth."

Tiber looked down at Enelo's untouched cup of recaff, then at where he was staring at. The lord wasn't looking at the town, or the masses of people, no his eyes were firmly stuck on a certain nondescript imperial gaurdswoman. Apparently a woman in armor was the man's fetish, "Mhm, shall I ask the lady you're asking if you she'd like to have dinner with you?"

"That sounds wond- WHAT IS THOU IMPLYING?" Enelo realized what Tiber meant half way into his words and was now a glowing red pompous tomato.

"Oh nothing~" Tiber chortled as he stole Enelo's cup and drank from it, putting in earplugs as Enelo continued to angrily make excuses and accusations at the planetary governor. Tiber thought that he was potential Inquisitor material given how many damn questions he was asking, the cursing was a possible issue however. "Also, I suggest you cover your ears, things are going to get loud."

Again, unable to hear Enelo's protesting, Tiber just closed his eyes and sipped his drink as the sky lit up with fire. However, it was not a planetary bombardment (despite what Enelo was claiming). The ground shook as giant metal containers crashed into the earth, their rocket engines doing what little they could to reduce their impact, each proudly marked with an Imperial Aquilla on their sides.

Unplugging his ears, Tiber was greeted by a furious rage from Enelo who sounded like he blew out his vocal cords, "LOOK AT DTHIS TRECHAREE! YEW HIDE IN MEHTAL BAWKESES? DA KOWARDS! YEW FEWLS!"

Delivering the Emperor's Peace via backhand, Tiber slapped some shit into the man and pointed at the decidedly non-lethal boxes (Tiber hoped they hadn't landed on anyone anyways) and the various techpriests of the 603rd Cadian running towards the recently landed objects, tools in hand and eager to get working (Tiber hoped they wouldn't kill anyone for poking a toaster or something).

The containers were all various cubes with panels that rolled up and disappeared leaving only a metallic frame. Techpriests would then come over and begin to construct building out of these frames and the rough shapes contained within them, activating other welding and claw arms built into the rocket engines somehow.

"This isn't some sort of treachery, this is how the Imperium builds shit on the fly." Tiber pointed at the myriad of techpriests running around the maze of metal frames.

"These objects appear to be firmly entrenched into the ground however." Enelo rubbed his face that now sported a red, backhand-esque mark on it.

"Figure of speech." Tiber rolled his eyes and began disembark the tower, leaving Enel to marvel at the wonders of technology.

The sergeant made his way to nearest quiet spot in the compound (an empty Chimera) and closed the door as he dug in his backpack and cracked open a book, _Memoirs of_ _Kaurava_ , written by the one and only, Governor General Vance Motherfucking Stubbs. Tiber had found this magical little book in one of the more recent drop containers and its assistance was beyond anything else he had found.

The book detailed the massive war in the Kaurava system between just about every major race and faction decided to have a clusterfuck orgy there over what Tiber assumed was some prime real estate or something. In the parchment pages of the book, it went over Stubbs's actions and planning on how he reorganized the 252nd Conservator Regiment from backwards half-ceremonial asshats to one of the finest regiments in all of the Imperium as well as the Kaurava system in general. Today's mass dropping of buildings was directly taken from the pages of _Memoirs of Kaurava_ with it being not only a tactic often employed by the V-man himself to make frontline fortifications quickly, but to also rebuild the planets in a timely manner to start off with.

After some discussion and some math, Tiber came to the conclusion that this action would be the best way of rapidly increasing his own power and strength on the planet as it was likely no one would give him any sort of respect until he personally punched a few people with lasguns. In hindsight, so much of this seemed obvious and that all his other plans where practically moot.

Soon his dataslate was being filled with thoughts and inspirations that Tiber had from the work of Vance Motherfucking Stubbs. It was mostly his post-war rebuilding of Kaurava that Tiber found the most interest in seeing that Urbino was practically the same thing with the wars and backwards ass technology on the planet was like. That said, he also took a peek at the method in which the governor general organized his troops. Tiber would have to lead soldiers eventually which would mean he'd have to organize the soldiers that would one day become Urbino's PDF or guard regiments.

Judging from the culture of the planet, Tiber felt comfortable in thinking of the creation of both footmen and riders. The sergeant ran through a list of names he made up on the spot: Bannermen, Men-at-Arms, Knights, Outriders, Oathsworn. None of them felt or sounded right. Then again, Tiber was rushing things now wasn't he? He barely had even gotten the infrastructure to maintain an army much less field one, the naming would have to wait.

As Tiber stepped out of the Chimera a solid few hours later, the sounds of drills and hammers continued to echo in the air. _I swore these things took less time to build,_ Tiber thought as he mounted a jeep and turned on the engine. It was about high time he took a visit to the temporary refugee tent camp that most of the 603rd was at. The compound was pretty desolate minus some guards and communications officers, most of the regiment had orders to guard over the refugees and help make their tents or help the techpriests with construction.

Going past the gates of his compound, the first thing he noticed was how smooth the roads where, the bumpy dirt paths now replaces with fashionable concrete. There was even simple little cut outs that were meant as sewage and drainage channels along the sides. It was these little bits of creativity that always pleased Tiber, he never knew why but it was some sort of odd satisfaction in the back of his head.

The construction was going very well from what Tiber saw on his way through the new and improved little village. Plasma generators had been set up first, now powering street lamps and heavier power tools that had made houses and general purpose buildings with roles not yet selected. A few lazier techpriests had tried to get high off of the plasma generators by plugging themselves into one of the generators only to get yelled at by some other techpriest higher on the hierarchy of toaster-fuckers the Adeptus Mechanicus.

Passing the makeshift walls of Aegis barricades, Tiber found himself once again on dirt roads as he bounced towards the camp fires of the tent city. As he got closer, the sound of people clapping and cheering grew louder and louder. Rolling past the first few colorful tents, Tiber quickly located Alice who told him that the refugees were doing some sort of festive dance ritual around a massive bonfire they used to honor the Emperor.

"It's mostly thanking him for his protection and granting them a new chance." Alicia leaned over TIber's jeep, "Honestly amazed at what these people can pull off and just how..."

"Happy?" Tiber tried to plug in Alicia's missing words.

"I guess. Most of these people have lost everything yet they smile. People who've lost families and friends are making new ones. People have nothing yet they act like they have everything."

"Its called hope Alicia, they have it and are using it more than people like us could fathom. "

"I say it's because they don't need much since they just want to get by in life thus they are more than happy with what they have right now."

Tiber shrugged and smiled, "Anywho, the techies are making good headway the the new upgrades from the _Herald_. I think I'll give the main compound and upgrade too as soon as the hab blocks are done-"

Three shots rang out, causing the celebrating mass to scream and scatter. Guardsmen snapped to attention and ran out from corners and crevices, weapons in hand. Some scanned the outside while others looked into the fleeing refugees in case the gunman was within their ranks somehow.

Alicia pulled her own pistol out and scanned the surrounding landscape, nothing she could see, just the forest beyond, "Seems like we're clear here. Might want to get to cover Sargeant incase the gunner returns. Sargeant? Tiber?"

The Cadian woman looked down and saw that the back of the jeep was hit by a round and left a massive hole in the back of it, it was all black and burnt and... red? There was a blood trail that was coming from somewhere, and that somewhere was Tiber's back as there was a new hole in the man's chest. With shaky hands, Tiber pressed a hand against the wound and looked at his bloodied hand, it reminded him of the Crimson Fist. He turned to Alicia, his wide eyes full of fear before the rolled up into his skull and he slouched forward, landing on the horn of his jeep.

"Emperor save us..." Alicia took a second to recognize what was going on, "Someone get me a medic! The sargeant's been shot!"

* * *

 **A/N: That was dramatic.**

 **Anywho, wanted to just say that tomorrow I will be once again heading back into the schooling system of America which means chapters might become even more sporadic than before. However, should the God-Emperor protect, I will continue to try and keep posting. Reviews and Critiques are always appreciated and help give me energy to keep writing this story. Also, if you have ideas of characters/situations/etc I'm all ears since I always want to know what other people can come up with, might to cameo contest sometime soon actually.**

 **Anywho, thank you for reading this chapter of "I'm a Planetary Governor Now?!", see you in the next chapter!**

 **~Clock**


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